What If Love Is a Pair of Shoes?
We don’t often think about love in practical terms. We romanticize it, wrap it in poetry, and paint it in grand gestures. But what if love was something simpler? What if love was... a pair of shoes?
Think about it.
A good pair of shoes supports you. They mold to your feet, take the brunt of your steps, and carry you through life’s toughest terrain. They may not always be flashy, but they are there—reliable, sturdy, and built to last. The best ones don’t just fit; they become a part of you.
Love is like that, too. It’s not just about the exciting newness or the showy displays. It’s about the everyday wear, the comfort in familiarity, and the way it stands the test of time.
Some love, like some shoes, is impractical. It looks good at first—shiny, sleek, maybe even expensive—but when put to the test, it blisters, pinches, and leaves you sore. You might try to make it work, convincing yourself that with enough time, you’ll break them in. But deep down, you know—if love constantly hurts, it’s probably not the right fit.
How many times have we kept a relationship (or a pair of shoes) that didn’t truly serve us, just because we wanted them to work? We tell ourselves that love means enduring pain, that if we try hard enough, we can make it comfortable. But real love, like real comfort, shouldn’t require that much suffering.
Then there’s love that you grow into. The kind you didn’t expect. Maybe it wasn’t your first choice, or it seemed too simple at first. But over time, it proves itself. It’s the kind of love that, when you finally slip into it, makes you wonder how you ever lived without it.
These are the relationships that sneak up on you—the friendships that turn into something more, the person who was always there in the background, waiting to be noticed. They may not have been your first pick, but once you give them a chance, they become the most comfortable, reliable, and irreplaceable part of your life.
Even the best shoes need maintenance. A love worth keeping might wear down, but with care, it can be stitched back together. A scuff doesn’t mean it’s ruined. A loose sole doesn’t mean you throw them away. You take them to be repaired, you put in the effort, and you keep walking forward.
Love, like leather, softens with time, becoming even more comfortable with age. It’s not about staying pristine—it’s about weathering life together. It’s about knowing that even when things get tough, you’re willing to put in the effort to restore what’s worth keeping.
Not every pair of shoes is meant to last forever. Some are perfect for a certain time in life—a carefree summer fling, a relationship that helps you grow, a love that serves a purpose and then fades away. And that’s okay.
Sometimes we hold onto relationships long past their purpose, afraid to let go. But just like you wouldn’t wear flip-flops in the snow, not every love is meant to be with you through all seasons. Some are meant to be appreciated, enjoyed, and then left behind as you move forward.
But when you find the pair—the one that fits just right, that supports you without weighing you down, that walks with you through every storm and sunny day—you hold onto it.
This is the love that doesn’t just look good in the moment; it stands the test of time. It’s dependable, it’s steady, and no matter how many miles you’ve walked, it’s still there, holding you up, carrying you forward.
If love is a pair of shoes, may you find one that fits, that feels right, and that carries you through life’s journey—step by step, mile by mile, always moving forward together.
And if you’re still walking in a pair that hurts? Maybe it’s time to let go. Because love—true love—shouldn’t leave you limping.
